Work in Progress
by Sare Liz
Summary: Life is a work in progress for Tony Stark, but it's only since he's turned over this new leaf that he's really understood that. Movieverse, TS/PP. #2 in the 'Slice of Life' series.
1. The Morning After

**Title**: Work in Progress  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Disclaimer**: So not mine.  
**Universe**: Iron Man movieverse, TS/PP  
**Continuity**: Directly after my fic "I'm Working On It"  
**Rating**: T. ish. Still.  
**Author's Note**: Writing makes me happy. Knowing that there are people who enjoy it (and want to discuss it) is the cherry on the top of my day.

--

Tony Stark woke up feeling calmer and more content than he had since coming back from Afghanistan eight months prior. Not that he was thinking this as he woke up on that beautiful Saturday morning. There was no thought involved at all, which was part of the beauty. It was just a feeling, a sensation of peace, like the sensation of limbs moving along high-count cotton sheets, as soft as a dream. Still somewhere between sleep and awake, said moving limbs encountered a distinct lack of any other body in the bed. This awareness proceeded to kick Tony firmly out of the land of sleep and into the waking world.

"Shades," he murmured before clearing his throat. Before his throat had cleared, Jarvis had cleared the Inteliglass windows and the room brightened slightly.

Rubbing his fingertips over his eyes and moving down to scratch at his growth of beard, he quietly spoke to his butler. "Jarvis, where's Pepper?"

"She is in your bathroom, sir," Jarvis replied just as softly.

He grunted and sat up, running a hand through his shock of black hair. "What time is it?"

"Five twenty-three."

Tony sighed in disbelief. "Huh. Slept in." When he heard the sink turn on from the master bath, he smiled and slid out of bed. Walking past randomly dropped articles of clothing he didn't bother to put any of them on. It wasn't that he was an exhibitionist, but it was his home, and the only ones around were his girlfriend and his AI butler. And besides, he didn't expect his girlfriend to be dressed, either.

His shock was imaginable then, when he opened the bathroom door and found her, in fact, mostly dressed and brushing her teeth. Her hair was still delightfully mused, however, and she hadn't taken a bath.

"Hey, no fair," he said, wrapping his hands around her middle and stepping up to her so he could be as close as her clothes would allow. He wondered if she was trying to avoid a difficult morning scene. He wondered if she thought he'd treat her like the other ones.

Tony didn't meet her eyes, after that first moment of opening the door. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed and licked the little mark he'd left there the night before.

"Do you have plans for today?" he murmured, working his way up to her ear.

"I was going to work some," she said around the toothpaste in her mouth. "Clean my house. Have lunch with my sister. Why?"

"Oh, I thought we might have a leisurely morning," he said, and nibbled her ear for good effect. The effect was ruined, however, when she bent over to spit out the toothpaste and rinse her mouth out. Tony, never one to be daunted, took the opportunity to massage her skirt-clad hip with one hand and move her long hair out of her way with the other.

"That would be new for you," she remarked dryly, now completely vertical once more.

"This is all new for me, Pepper," he said, staring into her eyes through the mirror, and wrapping his arms around her center once more, hugging her to him tightly. He'd forgotten how much shorter than him she was without heels. He had a solid four inches on her.

There was the space of a heartbeat before she answered, and in the stillness of the small tiled room it seemed like a rather long time. "That was unfair of me. I'm sorry."

"You can make it up to me, you know," he said, nuzzling back into her hair, loving the smell of it, of her, of the two of them together.

"On my back, I suppose."

Fingers twitched at her sides, and behold, Tony found that Pepper was quite ticklish.

"Invite me to lunch with your sister," he said softly, once his fingers stopped moving, once she could breathe again for laughter.

Her features asked the question for her.

"I want to meet your family."

If her expression was anything to go by, this request stunned her. Tony wasn't sure why it should. Wasn't this normal dating behavior? And besides anything someone else deemed normal, he _wanted _to.

"Besides. We need to pick up your stuff."

"My stuff?"

"Yea. You know. Stuff. Clothes, shoes, laptop, stuff. Your stuff. From your apartment. Stuff?"

At this she turned around, but just a tad to fast and managed to sideswipe his most delicate piece of equipment. He groaned heavily, but she didn't seem to notice. Still, his arms were around her, and hers rested on his bare chest.

"I don't see why I would need to pick up anything to bring over here. I'm not moving in with you, Tony Stark," she said, tapping her finger against the arc reactor in his chest, the ting-ting-ting of her fingernail against it echoing in the room.

"No?" he said, attempting to be charming.

"No."

"But what about days like this? I mean, you know, one thing leads to another, you spend the night – which you are always, always welcome to do –" at this he commenced kissing her neck again. "And sure, we both wake up at 5, but do you really want to have to drive all the way out to L.A. face the traffic, just to put on a fresh suit and some perfume? Think of the greenhouse emissions."

She snorted. "It's not that simple, Tony. My wardrobe isn't so large that I can just keep part of it over here."

"Clearly we need to go shopping before lunch with your sister."

"You have an answer to everything, don't you?" At this, he started in on the buttons to yesterday's blouse.

"Nine years later you're just figuring this out?"

She narrowed her eyes as he smoothed the blouse off her shoulders and let it fall onto the bathroom counter. "Fine. Shopping, then lunch, then you drop me at my apartment. There are still things that I want to do this afternoon."

"Yea?" he asked, unzipping her pencil skirt and letting it fall. He walked backwards with her, still holding on tight, kissing her shoulder, as they went back into the bedroom. "Like what? Come on, you know my schedule. What's yours look like?"

"Work. Cleaning. Yoga class."

"Yoga?" he asked with a lascivious grin. "You mean, you can twist yourself into a pretzel? That must come in handy."

"I think it will, with you."

"Then by all means. Shops don't open for another three hours. I think you should probably practice your yoga on me." Slowly, small step by step, they made their way across the large room.

"At some point I'm going to need coffee, Tony."

"Yes, yes, pencil that in for right after our shower."

And as they both fell back into bed with the sun slowly lightening the western sky, the laughter of Pepper Potts lightened his heart.

--

to be continued...


	2. Saturday Shopping

**Author's Note**: Thank you again for all of the lovely reviews. Initially, shopping and lunch were going to be one chapter, but I think now they'll have to be two separate ones. I hope you enjoy it, and please know that I adore and appreciate reviews, should you wish to leave me one.

--

Pepper Potts was a practical woman. She had learned early on that things like tradition and typical expectations could not just be taken for granted. 'Yes, but is it helpful?' was always the question her mind would put forth when faced with a situation that presented the traditional response to a question or problem. 'Could it be done a different way?' was always the next question on the docket. This way of looking at life made her excellent at her job, and was perhaps the one thing that allowed her to be occasionally two steps ahead of her boss. She enjoyed the unpredictability of her employer, and she enjoyed bringing order to the chaos that his genius created.

Her family recognized this streak of practicality in their oldest daughter, but marveled that it only extended so far into her personal life. When, they wondered, was she going to get serious about one of her boyfriends? She had always said that family mattered to her, so when was she going to start one of her own? Four weeks away from being thirty brought questions from her family that she normally didn't have to field at all.

But four weeks away from being thirty just happened to be a rather tumultuous time in Pepper's life. Actually, the entire twenty-ninth year was tumultuous, starting from day one, when her boss (whom she adored like one might adore a little brother, to say nothing that he was three years older) went missing in a war zone and was suspected of having died. Three months later she'd figured out that she'd actually loved him, regardless of the fact that he used women like Kleenex, drank entirely too much, spent his time making weapons of mass destruction, and failed to take anything in life seriously. Coincidentally, three months later, she also received a call from his best friend explaining that he'd been found – he had escaped, and been found, and they'd be arriving in two days at 3 in the afternoon, and would she make sure to be there?

Two days seemed like forever, and Pepper had several moments of seriously wondering if she should seek another position. It would be hard to work around him now, now that she had begun to realize how much he meant to her. More specifically, it would be wonderful to work with him, but hard to bear his darker side that she had managed so seamlessly before.

In the end, standing on the tarmac, watching him get up from the wheelchair with such stiffness and hidden pain, she was glad she'd made the decision she had. After all, she thought, _it would be unbearable if he treated me like all the rest, but he stopped flirting with me eight years ago._

But that moment was many moons ago. Four weeks away from being thirty was a different place in Pepper's life. It seemed she was finally getting serious with one of her boyfriends. Granted, they'd only just decided to date, but they'd been flirting on and off for the last eight months, and worked closely with each other for the last nine years. As a matter of fact, Pepper felt better in this relationship, instantly, right now, to a ridiculous degree in comparison to the other men she'd dated. And she'd dated plenty.

Practical as Pepper was, she would have never dreamed of dating this one, him, _Tony_, even knowing her heart as she did now, had it not been for the revolution in his character. O, that which made him Tony was still there, but someone had lit a candle in the midst of his dark side and he seemed to be cleaning house, slowly but surely. Eight months down, and the press wouldn't be able to recognize him, if they bothered to take a closer look, which thankfully they never did.

Eight months down, and he was shopping with her again. Shopping, and apparently he was buying her an entire second wardrobe – much nicer than her first one, save the three apology suits. Suits, some casual clothes, several evening gowns of varying degrees of formality, more shoes, and an absolute pile of lingerie.

"Where exactly are we putting this stuff?" The last time they'd made a trip back to the car, the trunk of the Bentley had been looking a bit on the full side. Not that she was complaining. Pepper was too practical for that rather large waste of energy, and it just wasn't something she ever indulged in. Come to think of it, neither did Tony. They both had better things to do. Better to solve the problem than whine about it.

"In a closet. You know. Clothes. Closet. Just a thought," he said.

"Well, not your closet," she remarked. "It's full. One of the guest rooms?"

"No. You're not a guest in my house. You belong there. But you're right. My closet is full. Remind me to call the architect in the morning. It's time I had more storage space."

"Tomorrow is Sunday, Tony."

"Fine. Monday. Whatever." He shifted his bags all to one hand so when the stepped off the curb to cross the street, he had one hand on the small of her back, walking closely to her in the light crowds of late Saturday morning.

"This doesn't mean I'm moving in," she said, looking up at him.

"No, of course not, love."

"Don't patronize me. I'm serious, Tony."

"And I'm serious, Pepper. You're not moving in with me until you're good and ready. Fine. I accept that. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that you can be good and ready as soon as possible."

_He's making room in his life for you, silly!_ Pepper smiled and felt her whole body relax. She hadn't realized how uptight the entire situation was making her feel. She stopped on the sidewalk of Rodeo Drive, half way to where Happy had parked illegally, and with her hands full of bags and packages she turned and kissed him full on the lips. It was quite a torrid kiss, and it went completely unnoticed by either of them that a photographer was clicking away until it came to an end.

"Hey, Iron Man! Smile for the camera!"

Tony flipped him off instead and shepherded her back to the car with an arm around her waist.

"That will make front page of some tabloid or other, tomorrow."

"Does it bother you?" he murmured, completely at ease.

She thought about it for a moment. "No, not really. Well, a bit. I mean, I definitely have to call my mother this evening. I'd like her to find out we're dating before she hits the check-out aisle. And then there's work." At his look, she clarified. "I don't mean job security. I mean respect. Before me you had, what, twelve assistants in three years. People aren't aware that you've changed so profoundly, Tony. They're going to think that I'm just another notch on your bedpost, and they're going to treat me that way."

"And you and I know what complete and utter bullshit that is, because I for one don't have a bedpost. I don't even have a metaphorical one anymore."

She nodded. "I know," she said earnestly.

He turned his head to meet her eyes briefly as they were walking. "And I can't be anything other than who I am. And who I've been is part of that. A part of me wishes I could spare you, but I can't. I'm sorry.

"You're a good person, Pepper. You're an excellent person, and I suspect you're far more than I deserve. However, I _am_ a selfish bastard, and if you're willing to give me a shot, I'm not going to argue."

She turned to him as they had reached the car, and with Happy waiting at the open trunk she gave him a sweet and soft kiss on the lips. Turning away, she put her bags in first, and then he his before Happy closed the trunk for them. He adjusted his glasses – they were pink tinted today, and Pepper liked to consider them his rose colored glasses. It amused her to do so, because while most people looked at the world _through_ rose colored glasses, but didn't actually own a pair, the situation was reverse for Tony Stark.

It was just one of many things about him that she admired.


	3. Rearranging Lunch

**Author's Note:** I should be asleep. You have likely noticed that I am not. This is not the chapter I thought it would be, but so far only about half of them have been. This is the prelude to the lunch date. Reviews are always welcome.

--

Ann Jarvey looked at her cell phone as it rang an upbeat tune. Her sister Ginny was calling, and it was nine in the morning. This probably meant that she would be canceling their lunch together. So it goes when your sister is the assistant to a Fortune 500 CEO – far worse than when she worked for the governor, right out of school. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last, but Ann didn't begrudge it. Family _was_ important to Ginny, and she was just as likely to stop by unexpectedly and hang out in some downtime as she was to make or miss a scheduled date. It all sort of evened out, in the end.

"Hey doll, something come up?" Ann said, immediately upon opening her flip phone.

"Um, actually, yes."

"So, when do you want to reschedule?"

"No, um. Not like that, I mean… I, uh…"

Ann silently smirked at her older sisters tied tongue. This only happened when she was really, really uncomfortable. Ann wondered what was going on, but knew better than to ask about it when on the phone – one never knew who was in the room with Ginny as she was talking. One day Ann had called and Pepper had been talking to Bono only moments before…

"I, um…"

And then Ann heard the oddest and most interesting thing. A voice probably near by to Ginny's phone, but not holding it and speaking into directly, starting half talking, half hollering into the handset.

"What Pepper is trying to say, is that she'd like to invite her new boyfriend to lunch with you. Is that cool?"

Ann chortled with glee. No wonder Ginny was acting funny. "Of course," she responded. "I'd be delighted. And, do I know this boyfriend? Do we have a name, at least?"

"Tony," Ginny responded.

"Tony? Just _Tony_? The artist formerly known as Tony, with no last name?"

"Stark. Tony Stark," Ginny replied tightly.

Ann was silent for a moment as this began to sink in, as her eyes slowly widened, until she couldn't hold it in anymore. She threw her head back and absolutely crowed with laughter. Her husband walked in and quirked an eyebrow to see his wife cracking up over the oat bran and granola, but when he noticed the phone in her hand, he just waited for the explanation.

"Ginny, she… she," gasping for air, Ann held the phone loosely away from her face so as not to laugh _directly_ into the receiver. "She's finally dating her boss!"

"It's about _time_," he replied loudly, knowing his voice would carry into the phone. "It's only been, what, a year since she'd decided to take a baseball bat to all his other girlfriends?"

Ann gave her husband a silent look that was one part shock and one part wonderment at his sneakiness. They deeply suspected that said boss was now listening into the conversation.

She turned back to the phone. "Still there?"

"Yes," came the terse reply.

"See you two at one then?"

"Yes, Annie, we'll see you then."

She closed her phone and picked up her coffee cup, but then just held it in her hands for the longest moment.

"What are you thinking?" her husband asked, slipping into a chair and helping himself to her orange juice.

"She's mentioned that he'd changed quite a bit since he got back. I just wonder how much is much, you know?"

He stroked her cheek for a moment before dropping his hand to the table. "You can't live her life for her, Annie."

She grinned. "I know. She's more than capable of living it herself. I just hope if she can't be happy with him, she moves on quickly. I'd hate to see this rip her apart, you know?"

Her husband nodded, then padded over to pour himself some coffee and toast a bagel.

"On the other hand, if he's changed as much as she's said, and it, you know, _sticks_… He'll make one hell of an interesting boyfriend. Or husband, if it comes to that."

"He'll keep her on her toes, that's to be certain."

"She traded a playboy for a superhero. I'm sure she traded up, but only slightly," Ann pointed out.

"Give it time. He could turn out to be a good one. Not like that giant green Dr. Jekyll terrorizing New York City."

"Is he in New York? I thought he was in Chicago."

"Same difference. So far Mr. Stark is only blowing up his own weapons. Could be worse. I'm sure if a screw comes loose, the first one to know will be our Ginny."

"True, my dear. True. Well, I'll tell you all about lunch when I get back."

"Have fun. I've heard he's charming, when he wants to be."

"Yes, dear. I've heard the same thing. In fact, I'm sure I was sitting next to you at the time…"

--

...to be continued...


	4. Concerning Baseball Bats

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all of the lovely reviews! They're like a cup full of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk after a lovely dinner. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. ...And now, back to your regularly scheduled 'ship.

--

Tony Stark was generally considered (by anyone whose opinion counted) the model of the evolved male of the species. He was wildly brilliant, incredibly successful at whatever he chose to do, he was unbelievably affluent, he had a personal charisma that inspired others to go beyond what they'd previously imagined possible, and a magnetic draw that left members of the appropriate sex begging in his wake. While some believed that this was in fact, a mutant ability (and one, it should be mentioned that others desperately wanted as well, genome research being what it was), all respectable pundits did still consider him Homo sapiens sapiens, not Homo sapiens exultet.

Just at the moment, Tony felt like Homo sapiens idaltu, or perhaps even Homo neanderthalensis. He blamed it on his hindbrain – that reptilian bit that stored all the good instincts, like feasting and fucking and running the hell away.

The reason for his descent into the more Cro-Magnon spheres of his being could be attributed to a conversation that he had just lately overheard involving images of the apple of his eye and a baseball bat. There was something, some almost ineffable feeling that curled from the base of his neck to his gut that just yelled _**'MINE**_**' **in the most primitive and guttural way, and this feeling momentarily overwhelmed him when he first overhead the above mentioned conversation.

It wasn't a rational thing. Rationally, he'd want to tease her, or find out more, or ask about the highly intriguing timeline that was mentioned. Rationally, he might be saddened that his past was destined to haunt him for some time, or he might be considering different angles with which to woo the family and loved ones of his dear, sweet, seemingly non-violent Pepper. Rationally, he had several different options and the freedom to choose his response.

Irrationally, there was a part of him that just wanted to mount her, right there in the back of the Bentley. For a very brief moment – the span of, say, three heartbeats – that _part_ of him consisted of his entire being.

Three seconds later he still remained in his position and the phone conversation continued on, without interruption until its end. The moment the electronic beep signaled that she had indeed hung up, the words were out of his mouth before thinking, and the H. sapiens in him had taken over again.

"Baseball bat, huh? Sounds pretty extreme. And a little vulgar," he said with a small but growing smile on his face. It was a small smile that was quickly turning lecherous. "I'm okay with it, though."

Pepper sighed and stared straight ahead at the front seat. "Those were not my exact words," she bit out tersely.

Tony smiled widely before wiping the expression off his face, lest she glance over and think he was mocking her – unduly.

"What were your exact words, Miss Potts?" His voice was low and intimate and he was leaning over in his seat towards her, just slightly.

"I don't immediately recall." She was still sitting stiffly and exactly upright, clutching her phone in her hand.

"I see. Well, exactitude aside, I get your gist. Let's discuss timeline. A year ago would put us…" he trailed off to consider it, but was cut off by her soft voice immediately breaking through his thoughts.

"It wasn't a year ago."

"I'm listening." Oh, and he was. Listening, intrigued, and every molecule focused at attention, he was fully willing to soak up whatever she had to say.

"It was..." she trailed off momentarily, for drama or calculation Tony couldn't tell. "Ten months ago. More or less."

His brain did the calculations quickly. Ten months ago was February. From mid-December to mid-March he'd been in Afghanistan, building the Mark I, among other things. His stomach dropped. This was not a conversation he was prepared to have right now. "I was away then," he said vaguely.

"Yes," she said, turning to look at him for the first time since her sister had started laughing, which he had heard with crystal clarity over the phone. "You were." She reached over and gently took his hand in hers, but said no more, and looked out the window at the passing scenery.

Long moments passed before the silence was broken.

"Ten months. _Ten months?_ Ten months, most of which I was present, accounted for, perfectly charming and totally attentive. Ten months and only _now_ are we dating?" The incredulous tone was utterly genuine.

She looked over at him and gave a little squeeze of his hand as she fought to hide a smile. She shrugged.

"Not good enough."

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to say, Tony?"

"The truth."

"The truth? I had to know who you were."

"Who I am? Pepper, for God's sake, we've been working together for nine years. You may be the only one in this world who really _does_ know me."

"And that's how I was able to recognize that you came back from Afghanistan a different man that's got nothing to do with post traumatic stress or momentary bouts of corporate insanity. I needed to know who you were now."

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried not to think about what it meant. "And, what if I hadn't come back changed?" He caught her eyes and tried not to drown.

She smiled a sad and painful looking smile. "I probably would have quit."

His stomach dropped again. God, this was a hellish ride into town. "I thought you hated job hunting," he said, his voice somewhat gravelly.

"It would have been less painful than the alternative." He held up the her hand, clasped in his and pressed his lips to the backs of her fingers for a moment. He then shifted her hand into his other one, and slid over closer to her, wrapping his now free arm around her shoulders and bringing her closer. He took a deep breath and kissed the side of her head, just above her ear.

They sat in silence for a moment, and for a very brief moment, he allowed himself to really feel the pain of that alternate reality that was, thankfully, closed to him now. He didn't let his mind stray back to the cave, but stayed present with her, in the car, just in that moment. Breathing in the smell of her, feeling her shoulders, her warm hand in his, all these things helped to ground him just in that moment, and it did successfully keep him from the cave.

After a moment he piped up, his usual humor coming to the fore again. "What about the baseball bat?" he asked, in a mock-wounded fashion.

"Well, maybe one for the road. I still find that Vanity Fair reporter rather annoying. But generally I'll leave the assault charges to you. You seem to be so good at gathering them up." The finger tips of both hands were drawing little patterns on his palm and the back of his hand. She looked over at him, and he was struck for the first time at how much his happiness depended on her.

"Hey, none of those have ever stuck," he pointed out softly, feeling like he was drowning in her eyes and sinking closer and closer to sweet oblivion.

"And that is because you have two judges in your pocket, in case of emergency." Her smile challenged him to argue, but he gave up his reputation of having an answer for everything and decided instead to kiss her.

--

...yes, I swear, the lunch is coming soon...


	5. An Unexpected Question

**Author's Note:** It was interesting writing this - this chapter happened in the midst of writer's block. I suppose I shall just go ahead and blame this chapter on writer's block. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it... All the same, if you enjoyed it, please do feel free to let me know.

--

One of the aspects of the practicality of Pepper Potts was her ability to observe, draw conclusions, and then dismiss all that seemed ancillary, thus freeing her to focus on what mattered most. It was one part the ability to concentrate, and one part sensory triage. And it worked, most of the time.

It worked most of the time, except for today.

The informal café was one of her sister's favorite places, and they didn't take reservations, but one of the things that her sister liked most about it – besides the food, which was tasty, and the owner's comfort level with patrons lingering over coffee for as long as they liked – was the eclectic music. Just as they had walked in, there seemed to be an indie steel-string guitar version of AC/DC's "Back in Black", and now there was a very feisty version of Beethoven's Presto movement of the Moonlight Sonata. It was stormy and strong, something that could overpower the senses if you allowed it.

It fit her frame of mind just perfectly, and so she was having a hard time concentrating on other things. Like her date. Or finding her sister.

He had his hand at the small of her back – he seemed to be putting it there quite often, and Pepper had to admit that she was getting used to it – but just now slid it over to hold her waist as he leaned over to her ear, a simple shift due to their same height. "There's a woman waving and looking significantly at us. Could that be your sister?"

Pepper snapped out of it and shook herself slightly before looking over and seeing Ann smirk at her. Pepper walked forward, smiling and waving off the seating hostess, but as soon as she walked away, Tony's hand disappeared from her person, leaving feeling bereft. She glanced back and gave him a small smile, catching up his now free hand in hers. His hand was incredibly warm.

She felt her self release a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and she took a deep breath as she weaved her way to the side where her sister was beginning to stand up, the better to properly greet them.

"Ginny! I'm glad you didn't have to cancel after all," her sister said, holding her in a quick one arm hug with a peck on the cheek. "And this must be Tony," she said with a genuine smile.

Pepper's heart descended back to where it was supposed to be, vacating her throat. It seemed that Ann had decided to behave herself and be hospitable. Ann was a good person through and through, but she could be a pip, and thus, deeply annoying, when the mood struck her.

"Yes, Ann, this is Tony. Tony, my youngest sister, Ann Jarvey." She did the introductions as Tony shook her hand and they got themselves seated.

"Does she cancel often?" was Tony's lazy question – lazy, but Pepper knew better. What was he up to? Was he checking up on her? He was, dammit.

Ann, god bless her, just shrugged and pointed out that she didn't keep a tally. It was at that point that the waitress had caught up with them, handed out menus and received drink orders.

"So, Ginny's told us a lot about you."

With most people, this would be a completely innocuous opening gambit.

Pepper watched as Tony smiled and turned on the charisma. He quirked an eyebrow and a grin over at her before answering her sister. "It's all true."

Pepper paled as she glanced over at Ann's mischievous expression.

"You don't know what she's told us."

Tony smirked and accepted his orange juice with grace from the waitress who was giving him the look that came just before recognition hit. "No, but I can imagine. If it's damning, it's true. If it's glowing, it's true."

"And what if it was just mediocre and somewhat run-of-the-mill?"

"No, that's not true," he said immediately before turning to her. "Mediocre? _Mediocre? _Pepper. When have I ever done things by halves?"

The butterflies finally escaped when she was on the receiving end of his incredulous glare. She tried to smother a smile, but was largely unsuccessful. "Never, Mr. Stark," she responded softly, in her lowest register.

"That's right, Miss Potts," he said, picking up her hand from the table, turning it over and pressing a kiss into her open palm. "And let's not forget it."

A snorted chuckle eventually brought them back to the task at hand: choosing lunch. Pepper could breathe normally after that, though. The worst had past, and the rest of lunch was the right mixture of charming, relaxing, and humorous. Tony now officially had blackmail material on her.

And then the coffee came.

"What about next weekend? The weather is supposed to be nice, and Sev can put some steaks on the grill. Anything you hate eating, Tony?"

"I eat anything," he deadpanned, but her sister just kept going.

"I don't know if that's a good time, but I need to check the schedule. I'll call you later," Pepper told her sister.

Tony leaned back and with one hand cradling a coffee cup and the other on her thigh, under the table, he remarked, "you got a hot date next weekend, Potts?"

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. She wanted to be able to give him an out, just in case he didn't want to actually have a family barbeque at her sister's house, but she didn't respond in addition to this because she couldn't perfectly remember his schedule, and hadn't brought it with her.

"No, but I think you're due to be in New York." She did, actually. She was almost positive.

"Really? Cancel it. Or reschedule. What was it?"

"An art opening."

"Definitely cancel it. This is more important."

Ann was just stirring the cream and sugar into her coffee when Pepper decided that she should have been an only child.

"So, you're dating now, and you work together, and one of you is the newest superhero on the block. Are you going to move in with him? Because you know that's going to freak out Mom." At Pepper's absolutely mortified glare, Ann shrugged. "You know Mom is going to grill you, and possibly you too," she nodded to Tony, "and so I thought I'd just get you ready for her inevitable questions about your intentions."

Pepper closed her eyes and wished herself away.

Tony chuckled and moved his hand from her thigh, picking up her hand instead. He kissed her knuckles and laughed longer when she steadfastly refused to look at him, but continued on with her eyes shut.

"I assure you and your entire family that my intentions are entirely honorable." At this, Pepper cracked one eye open and gave him a sidelong glance. His features were light, and once again he didn't look quite as old as he usually did. He looked a bit closer to his 33 years. He squeezed her hand and gave her a look that seemed to silently ask her full attention. She gave it to him.

"If I thought I'd have half a chance of her saying yes, I'd ask her right now to marry me." He looked deeply into her eyes, and all trace of humor was gone from his face, though it was still soft and open. "But she won't even move in with me."

Pepper blinked as her jaw gaped slightly. "Are you serious?" she whispered even as her brain was whizzing at light speed. The practical side of her was doing some quick calculations.

Marriage is respectable. Marriage to a coworker is respectable. Marriage is a legal and binding contract, and in case he got in trouble or injured due to his extra-curricular activities, which was _entirely_ possible, she would have many more rights than she would now, among them being able to plead the Fifth Amendment.

Dating can go either way. Dating your boss is seedy and sordid, no matter who discusses it on FOX News or at the water cooler.

And then of course, there were her feelings: she adored him.

"Yes. Serious. Completely serious. Do I take, from your expression that I might have half a chance of you saying yes to that sort of query?"

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, but when she couldn't quite form words, she nodded instead.

She watched as he put down his coffee cup, slipped his chair back at an angle to avoid the other patrons and sank down onto one knee. There was a lump in her throat again.

He kissed her hand that he still held, and rubbed his fingers across her knuckles.

"Virginia Potts," he started, slowly and softly, as if savoring her name. "Will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?"

And then everything clicked into a perfect state of clarity.

"Yes," she whispered. "_Yes_," she said again, stronger this time, and leaned over and down to kiss him thoroughly. They were interrupted by the applause and cheering that broke out across the café. They ignored the whispers that speculated on the possibility of him being Iron Man.

--


End file.
